


Everything's Coming Up Johnlock

by Christine_Eponine_Watson, reflectiveless



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cold Weather, Cuddling & Snuggling, Femlock, M/M, Merlock, Smauglock, Tentacle Sex, There will be more later because why not?, Whatever random topic we feel like, cat!lock, etc. - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-20 11:32:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1508948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Christine_Eponine_Watson/pseuds/Christine_Eponine_Watson, https://archiveofourown.org/users/reflectiveless/pseuds/reflectiveless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of one shots involving Johnlock. They span just about every category possible, but always include romance. Prepare for long chapters because that will happen a lot. WARNING: Will contain occasional smut. Well... When I say occasional... REVISED WARNING: Will contain smut frequently. EVEN MORE REVISED WARNING: Will practically always contain smut, sometimes more than others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Heat of the Moment

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, this is exciting. I've wanted to have an account here for ages, so glad that finally happened. I am also posting this story on fanfiction.net, so you can read it there too. 
> 
> This story is written in collaboration with the lovely, wonderful, incredible reflectiveless, who also happens to be my girlfriend, so... yeah. Anyways, we've written more stories than I can count, but it takes effort to actually post them.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Due to a lack of cases, the heat in 221B is shut off. Sherlock decides that he needs a personal space heater, a short, blond, doctor-shaped space heater.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Sherlock is not mine.

It was a frigid winter night, not quite late enough for Sherlock to sleep yet, but the cold had crept up on him to the point where he cocooned himself in a sheet, even over his usual night attire. Cases had been sparse lately and as a result he and John had to cutback on a few things such as heating. Even the tea he had been sipping had gone cold. John was wearing more layers than he normally did when he walked up to Sherlock with a fresh cup of tea. "Here, you need it," he said, handing Sherlock the steaming cup.

Sherlock looked up, glad for the new cuppa, and eyed John's layers. "Cold?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow, though John certainly appeared to be warmer than he was. John sat down next to Sherlock and nodded. It was really very cold. He wished that he had been able to pay the heating bill. The second John sat next to him, Sherlock could feel the warmth radiating off him and instantly scooted closer to capture some for himself. He knew on average John typically slept sooner than he did, which would mean he would be taking his warmth with him... Sherlock scooted closer still, trying to think of a plan.

John's heart began racing as Sherlock came nearer to him. A blush spread on his cheeks. He looked away from his flatmate, trying to calm himself. Sherlock just wanted warmth, he did not want John. John swallowed. "I... um... I should probably... probably be g-going soon..." he said, wishing his voice did not give away his feelings quite so much. However, he made no move to go, instead staying exactly where he was. Any minute now he would get up and go to his room... He could not quite manage to convince himself of this, though...

Panic slowly set in. Now that Sherlock had a taste of it, he was not about to lose his personal heater. Grabbing one of John's wrists just in case he made a sudden move to leave he quickly reasoned, "It's awfully cold in the flat... I wouldn't want you to get sick while you sleep... "

John's heart managed to beat even faster. It took a few moments before he was able to speak. "You can't get sick from cold," he reasoned quietly. If it had been any other time, he would have been thrilled to stay, but he knew that Sherlock only wanted him for his warmth. He wanted to be more than just a furnace to his flat mate.

Sherlock frowned, that was not the response he was hoping for at all. Oh, how he wanted to curl up on John's lap and fall asleep, but "not gay" John would certainly have none of that. Maybe showing concern for John's health the wrong tactic. He would have to reverse things. "But John... it is so very cold... and I..." had his voice just hitched? "That is, we coooould keep each other warm..." His voice grew more nervous as he spoke. 

John's eyes closed. He knew he could not deny Sherlock anything for very long, no matter how much it might hurt him. He decided the he might as well enjoy it while he could. He nodded reluctantly, eyes still shut tight. Sherlock had a small victorious smile and gently pushed John down so he was laying on the couch, wedging himself as close to him as he could. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around John. He did not think the warmth would have such an effect, but he quickly drifted off without meaning to. "Mmmmm John..." he mumbled in his sleep.

John wished that it did not feel so perfect to be in Sherlock's arms. He turned so that he was lying and facing Sherlock instead of away from him. Sherlock looked so beautiful and peaceful in his sleep... John wanted to kiss his perfect lips, but he would not take advantage of Sherlock like that. He settled on kissing Sherlock's cheek. "Goodnight, Sherlock," he whispered as tiredness and comfort overcame him and he drifted off to sleep.

Sherlock's unconscious body let out a light moan of approval, his head naturally seeking out more warmth rested in the crook of John's neck as he occasionally muttered things in his sleep. Sherlock had admittedly dreamed of John before, but it was usually running through the streets of London with him after criminals. Tonight it was how his lips probably tasted of honey and jam. He did not know that his own lips had parted and gently sucked at John's neck.

John's eyes snapped open, yet still the exquisite torture remained. So it was not a dream... He could not stop the low moan that escaped his lips. Maybe this was not his best idea... but there was no way he could move. Sherlock's legs wrapped themselves around John's waist, a small sound making him stir. What was that unfamiliar taste? Slowly his eyes opened to see he had been sucking on skin... That was not right... Still wrapped around John, Sherlock pulled his head back and suddenly recalled his sleeping arrangement. He blushed furiously when he realized what he had been doing. John unintentionally made a quiet sound of protest when Sherlock pulled back. His years of military discipline were failing him as he could not control or hide his growing arousal. He turned crimson at how obvious his enjoyment of their current position was.

"J-J-John?" Sherlock's pupils were blown wide. Oh god, had he just revealed everything? John would surely leave him now. He started uncurling himself from the smaller man. "I'm sorry, so sorry, I didn't know... I was asleep... and um..."

"Don't apologize," John said quickly. He did not want Sherlock to release him, not when he had only just started to feel hope. "Y-you're still... still cold." His arms wrapped around Sherlock, hoping that Sherlock did, in fact, want to stay.

Sherlock froze momentarily before returning to his previous position around John, who felt significantly warmer from the combined body heat. "I was dreaming," said dream popped back into his mind making him blush more, "... I was unaware of my actions..." John tried very hard to not stare at Sherlock's lips, but they were so close... John could resist no longer. He brushed his lips against the detective's gently. Sherlock's lips were softer than he could have ever imagined. "Hmm?" Sherlock hummed confusedly, but made sure John's lips stayed in place for a chaste kiss. Was he dreaming? He had to be dreaming this. Seeing as Sherlock was not objecting, John put more pressure into the kiss, his lips parting slightly. One of his hands found its way to Sherlock's hair and delighted in the feel. His hair was almost as soft as his lips.

Sherlock let out a deep throaty moan. This was most definitely not a dream. He huddled as close to John as he could, slipping his hands up the back of John's clothes. John moaned as well. The hand not buried in Sherlock's hair slid down the taller man's back to his arse. His tongue slid along Sherlock's lower lip. Sherlock's mouth opened in a small gasp. John was heaven. "And here I thought you wouldn't want to stay with me through the night," Sherlock murmured.

"There's nothing I want more," John replied. "Nothing but you." His tongue slipped into Sherlock's mouth. He had never felt as at home as he felt in Sherlock's arms.

"I love you John," Sherlock whispered, his breath ghosting against John's skin before he continued snogging him.

John felt like he was going to die of happiness. "I love you too, Sherlock." He had wanted to tell Sherlock for so long, but he could not risk their friendship. He had hoped that maybe his feelings would lessen over time, but they had only gotten stronger.

"You've no idea for how long I've wished you would say those words," Sherlock said, smiling. He had watched John from afar for so long, he did not think this moment would ever be possible, or that he had missed his chance long ago.

"You've no idea how long I've wanted to say them," John replied. "I didn't because I thought that you would deduce my feelings for you and, since you didn't say or do anything, you didn't feel the same." He did not want to admit out loud how much the possibility of Sherlock rejecting him scared him. John had been rejected and heartbroken before, he could not bear it if Sherlock rejected him too. He loved Sherlock too much.

"Sentiment... not really my strong suit John." Sherlock thought his own actions had been loud enough. Had he not taken the jar of eyeballs out of the microwave for John? Gone to restaurants despite not being hungry just to be with him? Run off all of John's 'girlfriends'? Clearly John was bad at picking up on his hints.

John nuzzled Sherlock's neck. "I suppose we were both just blind idiots." The affectionate nuzzling soon became gentle nips, licks, and kisses. John knew that he would never get bored of this.

"It should seem so." Sherlock gave a low grumble at the excess amount of clothes John was wearing, it was cold... but he was sure he could think of an alternative method for warmth that involved fewer articles of clothing. He began removing John's jumper.

John heart beat faster. Sherlock would not remove his jumper for no reason, considering the temperature... It did not take a genius to figure out Sherlock's intentions. "Hold that thought," he said, untangling himself from Sherlock and standing. He held out a hand for Sherlock to take. "Care to take this somewhere more comfortable? Your bedroom perhaps?"

Sherlock smirked, "John, you're brilliant, I hope you are aware of this." He got to his feet with a bit of a stumble, still half asleep from a moment before, and grabbed John's hand as he marched him off to his room.

"Why thank you, love," John said, grinning. He closed the door behind them.

With predator like movements, Sherlock grabbed John by the waist, picked him up, and gently tossed him on the bed. He was definitely awake now and climbed up after John, hovering just above him, a mysterious glint in his eyes. John's legs wrapped around Sherlock's waist and pulled him closer as he captured Sherlock's lips with his own. He was starting to heat up and definitely agreed with Sherlock's desire to remove his clothing.

"Mm, I think I could get rather use to this," Sherlock purred in his deep, resonating voice. He pulled the offending jumper over John's head and flung it to the side, kissing John passionately again. John moaned. Heaven itself could not be more wonderful than this. He worked on removing Sherlock's jacket.

Sherlock practically ripped John's shirt off, his hands glided down his smooth torso slowly to the top of his trousers, playing with the belt. John followed suit and removed Sherlock's shirt, albeit more carefully than Sherlock had his, and threw the shirt off to the side. His hands ran along Sherlock's pale chest.

"You're so perfect." Sherlock said, almost reverently. He leaned down and trailed kisses over John's body, occasionally licking and nipping.

John moaned. "How on Earth did you get to be so good at this?" he asked breathlessly. His trousers were starting to feel much too tight.

"I observe, commit things to memory, deduce..." Sherlock licked his tongue all the way up John's stomach to his chest and leaned towards his mouth, "and you are my current ongoing experiment." John shuddered as Sherlock's tongue slid along his torso. He would have not liked being just another of Sherlock's experiments, but Sherlock was far too distracting. He could hardly think straight, though a vast majority of his thoughts strongly resembled 'take me now.' He reclaimed Sherlock's mouth in a passionate battle of tongues. Sherlock rubbed against John's waist unashamed, he was having entirely too much fun. "I think you are still wearing far too much, love." He slipped back down to John's trousers and began removing them.

John moaned. "You are... far, far too good at this..." He wanted Sherlock so badly. More than anything in the world, he wanted Sherlock. "Sherlock!" he moaned loudly. His hands quickly removed Sherlock's trousers.

Sherlock grinned wide. He loved how John called his name. Removing John's trousers completely, he cocked his head to the side, hands running up John's thighs. "And what is it you would like me to do now?"

John blushed lightly. "Have your observations not told you what I want?" he whispered. What he wanted Sherlock to do was not something his modesty would allow to be uttered aloud.

"I believe I have an idea... much more fun to hear it from your lips though." Sherlock's fingers looped inside the band of John's pants, debating whether to tease him more or pull them off.

John's blush turned from light pink to bright crimson. "I want you," he said simply, hoping that was enough of an answer to appease his amazing tormentor.

Sherlock kissed his inner thigh. "And I you love." He pressed his mouth to the front of John's pants and lightly kissed him before pulling them off. It felt freeing for John to be rid of his pants, though his blush deepened further since he had never expected to be without his pants in front of Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock smiled. John was stunning with a blush. He had been to war, saved lives, killed for Sherlock, but here he was perfect and exposed for him with a blush. "You're incredible and I love you."

"I love you too," John said. He pulled Sherlock close enough to kiss his exquisite lips. He would never be able to get enough of this; it was too perfect and wonderful for him to ever dream of having enough. He wanted, and fully intended, to kiss and hold Sherlock like this forever.

There was no way Sherlock would ever grow tired of snogging John. Just like in his dream, he had a faint, sweet taste like honey. Sherlock's right hand glided down John's chest until it reached his waist, taking John in hand.

"Sherlock," John moaned into said detective's mouth. How did mere observations teach Sherlock _this_?

"Good?" Sherlock asked, unsure of himself, as his hand slowly worked John, his thumb gliding over the tip. John nodded mutely, unable to find his voice. Sherlock was so incredible with his hands. John was not sure how much longer he could last before he entirely gave into ecstasy. Sherlock paused momentarily to remove his own pants, his hand continued pleasuring John. John's hand timidly reached out to brush against Sherlock, curious, even in his haze of lust, to see what effect he would heave on the taller man. Sherlock let out a deep, throaty moan at the touch, internally begging John to continue. Encouraged by Sherlock's moan, John grasped Sherlock more confidently, copying on his lover what Sherlock was doing to him. "Ahh John..." he moaned again, speeding up his own movements with John and scooted closer to him. John followed suit, though the combination of Sherlock's hold on him and his on Sherlock was almost more than he could take. With his other hand, Sherlock guided John's hand away and laced their fingers together as he pressed his cock against John's.

"Sherlock... Can't last... much longer..." John panted, his eyes closing. Sherlock grinned and waited for the last possible minute before leaning down and taking John in his mouth, sucking lightly. It was more than John could take. He came into Sherlock's mouth with a shout of the brunette detective's name. Hearing John undid the detective, causing him to come as drank the shorter man down, exhaustion overcoming him. They could clean up later. John curled around Sherlock and fell asleep, whispering, "I love you, Sherlock."

"I love you, John," Sherlock told John. He wrapped his arms around his doctor's sleeping form, falling asleep to the beating of his heart.


	2. Unexpected Results

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock's experiment goes horribly, adorably wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly wasn't expecting kudos so soon, so thank you all!
> 
> Disclaimer: Still not my characters.

Sherlock had worked all day at his chemistry set on the kitchen table. He had barely registered when John had come home mumbling something about work. His chemical was nearly complete. He held the syringe up, flicking a bit of the liquid out to prevent air bubbles. In theory, the compound should heighten a person's senses, but he could not be sure if it worked until it was tested. He had never worried about side affects before. Without checking if John was still in the room or not, he said, "About to test something. If I pass out, check my vitals," and promptly injected himself. It stung fiercely and he winced at the pain. He knew it wouldn't be long before he got the results.

John froze. Had Sherlock just... "What the hell are you thinking?! You could have just injected yourself with poison! Why would you do something so reckless?!"

Sherlock groaned deeply, barely managing to speak. "Experi-ment." Oh god, his whole body had tensed up horribly, his back arching, needle dropping to the floor. He was beginning to rethink his plan. He stumbled out of his chair, crying in pain and almost falling to the floor. He was positive he was about to throw up and made his way to the bathroom. Sherlock shut the door without locking it and fell to his knees. A final shriek of pain escaped him, the end of which seemed oddly catlike. The next thing he knew, his clothes were pooling around him. "J-John?" Why couldn't he stand properly?

John burst into the bathroom. "Sherlock?" He could not see his flatmate anywhere, but his clothes were in a crumpled heap on the ground. A crumpled... moving... heap. John dug through the pile and found a little black kitten. "Sh-Sherlock?" Oh god.

Sherlock struggled to stand, but his legs wouldn't cooperate, so he helplessly fell over again and again. He finally accepted that he had to be on all fours. Why had everything suddenly seemed so large? "John? What's happening?" His ears went back in agitation.

John's jaw dropped and he crouched down next to the kitten. "Sh-Sherlock, you... You're a cat... Why are you a cat?" His brain was not cooperating, following its own path that disregarded what one should probably think and feel when one's flatmate turns himself into a cat. Sherlock was so small and adorable... He reached out to pet his flatmate's tiny head. He was so soft. "You're so cute." He had the urge to pick up his tiny detective and cuddle him.

"What?" Sherlock gasped in shock. "No... no, that's not possible... I mean, the chemical I injected in me did have some feline DNA... but that shouldn't have..." Sherlock had unconsciously rubbed up against John's hand. "Why does this feel so good?"

John could not resist. He picked Sherlock up by his furry middle and cradled him in his arms, rubbing his belly. "I don't know, but you're kind of the most adorable thing I've ever seen."

Sherlock tried to struggle out of John's hands, "What are you doing!? I'm not some kind of house pet you can just man handle!" he hissed, but finally gave in. Damn John for petting him in such a soothing manner...

John continued to pet Sherlock, enjoying the silky texture of his fur. "You're so tiny..." He secretly loved being bigger than Sherlock for once.

Sherlock felt utterly helpless. "I thought you were suppose to be the level headed one." He tried wiggling free again to no avail. Finally, John's stroking had found a particularly nice spot on him and a low rumble spread through his body from his chest. "Wh-what is that?"

"I believe that's called purring, Sherlock," John said with a smirk. He had the strangest desire to kiss Sherlock's adorable little tummy, but refrained. This was Sherlock Holmes, after all, and he would not be okay with such an action. John stood, Sherlock still securely in his arms, and left the bathroom. He could get Sherlock's clothes later. "Damn it, how are you so cute?" It was entirely unfair for the already stunning Sherlock to turn himself into the most adorable kitten John had ever seen in his life. John sat down on his chair, refusing to set Sherlock down for a moment.

"Cute!?" Sherlock hissed. "John I'm a cat! I don't even have opposable thumbs!" Sherlock got a better look at the flat from John's lap, realizing how big everything was now. "I'm... I'm tiny..." He hunched back down into John, afraid of falling off the chair.

John chuckled. "I need to get you to a mirror so you can see how adorable you are," he said. He started petting Sherlock again from the top of his head down to his tail.

Sherlock grumbled. "This wasn't suppose to happen... You could pretend to be concerned for my well being, you know." Apparently cats could roll their eyes. But he couldn't resist the feel of John's strong arms stroking him... Wait, where the hell had that thought come from?

"I would be more concerned if you weren't so cute and fluffy," John replied, "but you're rather distracting." The thought of having Sherlock in his lap as a human crossed his mind and his petting faltered. What?! Why was he thinking things like that? He was not gay!

Sherlock stretched out against John. "Your jumper reeks of jam, if you were unaware," he stated matter-of-factly. His tail swished back and forth. He had not realized that he had started snuggling his head against said jumper.

John blushed. "Um, Sh-Sherlock? Wh-what are you d-doing?" Why was his heart racing? Why did he have the urge to kiss Sherlock's fuzzy little head? His hand started to pet Sherlock again entirely without his permission. Why did he wish that the fully _human_ Sherlock was snuggling up against him instead? He... He was not gay... But straight men don't fantasize about their  _male_  flatmates _cuddling_ them...

"Cat instincts..." Sherlock replied, though he was not entirely convinced by the response himself. Of course, he would not be sprawled over John like this otherwise; John would never allow such a thing. Not that he had thought of it before... which he certainly had not... Dreams did not count, nor did day dreams. "Mmmm... Keep petting me..." he practically moaned, his purring deepening.

John bit back a moan at Sherlock's deeply resonant voice, which had not changed with the rest of him. He obliged, of course, and continued to pet Sherlock. His mind tried to talk him out of it, but his body apparently had no intention of stopping. Before he could stop himself, he had scooped Sherlock up in his hands and brought him up to place a kiss on his head.

Sherlock felt his small cat body go limp, did John just...? God, John was getting overly attached to him being a cat; that was the only possible explanation, of course... But it was heaven. His eyes closed for a moment, wishing John was stilling kissing him, even if it was just the top of his head. Perhaps he could take a few liberties himself... He attempted his 'cutest' mewing sound and licked John's nose.

John felt his heart beat faster. Sherlock only did that because he was in cat form... Why did John's heart sink at that thought? "Sh-Sherlock I l-" What?! Had he been about to tell Sherlock that he... No... He was not gay! He did not think of Sherlock that way... His mind replayed Irene's words. Maybe... No... His internal protests were getting weaker. Oh hell.

Sherlock cocked his head. He wanted to know what John was about to say, but he seemed so flustered by his actions... It was too good an opportunity to pass up. He pressed up against John's chest, tail flicking away teasingly as he propped his front up so he could reach John's neck and licked at it. "hmm?"

John shivered. Sherlock was making it hard to think straight. "I... Um... I mean..." He tried to think of a way to talk himself out of the corner he had backed himself into with that stupid slip. "I um..." Was that moaning sound coming from him? His blush deepened.

Sherlock closed his eyes, imagining he was in his normal human body again as he sat up in John's lap licking and nipping him. His eyes shot back open. Oh god, had he really just thought that...? He looked up, having heard John's moan, and noticed the simply delicious shade of red he was turning. He felt a sudden spike go through his spine and down his tail.

"Sherlock, I love you," John blurted out before his mind could catch up with his mouth. Had he really just told Sherlock that he... he loved him? "I mean..." There was no escaping it, no way to change the meaning of his words. Sherlock would want nothing to do with him now. He would lose his best friend.

"You... you do?" Sherlock's eyes widened in shock. How could he? He had given John every reason to hate him. His purring intensified as he pushed closer to John's face and licked his soft fleshy lips. Damn his cat body for not letting him hold John. "I... I love you too John."

John's jaw dropped. "Y-you do?" he breathed. Sherlock loved him? He held Sherlock closer, hugging him gently so as not to hurt his fragile cat body.

Sherlock purred, his tail swayed happily. "I do. I didn't realize that's what it was, but I do. I have for a while."

"I didn't know until today," John admitted, "but I think I've loved you since we first met." He set Sherlock down on his lap. "I wish that I could kiss you right now..." He sighed. The one downside of Sherlock being small and fluffy was that they could not kiss.

Sherlock felt the same twinge of pain as before shoot through him, causing him to arch his back. "Me too..." He sucked in a pained gasp, feeling his limbs weaken. He realized that the chemical could finally be wearing off.

"Sherlock, are you alright?" John did not like seeing the man, or cat, he loved in pain. Wait... Could Sherlock be changing back? The thought of a naked Sherlock on his lap sent a wave of desire through him.

"I'm- ahh- f-fine..." Sherlock said unconvincingly. He tried to jump off of John, planning to slink off to another room as he turned back and grab his clothes, or at least a sheet, but he felt like all the strength had been drained out of him. He suddenly shot up, turning back into a human. He leaned against John's jumper as he tried to catch his breath. "Oh... That was... fast..."

John's arms instinctively wrapped around Sherlock. He grabbed a blanket that had been lying on the floor nearby, God _—_ or rather, Sherlock _—_ only knows why, and offered it to Sherlock. He knew that his detective would probably want to cover himself.

Sherlock was blushing profusely, John's arms felt so warm around him... but he knew he should really cover up. As he pulled the sheet around himself, he realized the back was sticking up, a long black tail poking out from underneath. Sherlock's eyes doubled in size. He hadn't yet noticed the ears. "I- I have a... JOHN!"

John managed to hold back laughter, but not a smirk. He reached up and gently stroked one of Sherlock's ears. "Do you think these will ever go away or will you be stuck with a tail and cat ears forever?" His other arm tightened around Sherlock's waist slightly. "Mind you, I'm not complaining. I find them kind of attractive, but I'm not sure how you'd be able to hide them."

Sherlock's body went stark still as the ears flattened against his head. "Ears too?!" he asked quietly. John nodded. Sherlock's head fell forward onto John's shoulder. "I'm a freak... I don't know if they'll stay or not..." He was not wearing that horrid ear hat no matter what.

"Hey, don't say that!" John commanded. "You are _not_ a freak!" His arms wrapped tighter around Sherlock. "You're brilliant and perfect. No matter what anyone says, you're not a freak."

Sherlock's tail wrapped around John's leg as he sank into his arms. "Even like this?" he asked in a small voice. He tried to look John in the eyes and found he couldn't look past the tantalizing lips that were so very close to him now.

"Even like this," John confirmed. He leaned forward and closed the gap between their lips. Sherlock's lips were so soft and wonderful... One of John's hands made its way to the back of Sherlock's head, holding him even closer.

Maybe they could stay for a bit... "Oh John... you're so amazing... so perfect." He never wanted to be out of John's embrace again.

"So are you, Sherlock," John whispered. He ran his tongue along Sherlock's lower lip.

Sherlock moaned, parting his lips for John. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," John replied, sliding his tongue into Sherlock's mouth. He moaned when their tongues met. God, it was perfect. Sherlock's hands were occupied with holding his sheet around him, but he would much rather be holding John instead. No longer caring, he pulled John close, wrapping the sheet around them both. John's hand slipped from Sherlock's waist to his perfectly shaped arse. He was so tempted to just carry Sherlock off to his bed. He probably would soon.

Sherlock moaned, his black silken tail pricking up against John's hand. "Seducer you are..." He licked playfully at John's neck and ears.

John moaned loudly. "B-bed?" he whispered. He envied Sherlock's state of undress as his own trousers were far too tight.

"Y-yes..." Sherlock barely breathed, grabbing John's arm and practically pulling him into John's room. Once inside, he pushed John onto the bed.

John propped himself up on his forearms. "Will you be joining me, then?" he asked playfully.

Sherlock pounced on him predatorily. "Of course." He had a toothy grin and nipped John's shirt open with his mouth.

John moaned. "Since when have you been so good at this?" he asked between moans and gasps of pleasure.

"Since I started studying your dating habits and researching what to do via internet. Strangely, Lestrade refused to teach me." He took off John's shirt and threw it to the other side of the room, not caring where it landed in the slightest.

John laughed. "You asked Lestrade to teach you?" Sherlock could be so naïve sometimes...

"And he had the nerve to assume it was for you," Sherlock complained with a slight pout that made John grin. "Being correct was irrelevant; it could have been for anyone."

John laughed again and kissed Sherlock. "Oh Sherlock... Love, you are absolutely mad and perfect," he murmured.

Sherlock did not understand why John was laughing at this, but he enjoyed the kissing part. His hands ran down John's chest, caressing and committing to memory every muscle, every scar, every centimeter of his surprisingly soft, smooth skin.

John moaned again, all playfulness being lost in a haze of lust. "Sh-Sherlock, I w-want you... so much..." He had never wanted another human being as much as he wanted Sherlock. 

Sherlock kissed and nipped down John's chest, worshiping every centimeter of the lightly tanned skin. He stopped just above John's trousers and let out a deep, lustful growl. "'These are in my way." He quickly removed them and licked his lips. "Mmm... Much better."

John bit his lip and moaned, impossibly aroused by Sherlock's display of skill. "I w-want you in-inside of m-me," he stammered between moans.

Sherlock swallowed hoarsely. He wanted John with every fibre of his being. His hands caressed John's thighs. He was more nervous then he thought he would be. "L-lube?" he asked, trying not to sound too nervous.

John reached into his bedside table and retrieved a small bottle, handing it to Sherlock. He was blushing a light pink. "Never know when you'll need it..."

Sherlock grinned widely. "My dear blogger, you are always so full of surprises." He took the bottle, loving John's shy, pink face, and gave him a light squeeze.

Sherlock's action elicited another lustful moan from John. His eyes begged Sherlock to stop teasing him and take him. His eyes assured Sherlock that he belonged to no one but his detective. His eyes revealed how much he loved him.

"You're gorgeous." Sherlock knew he could never love anyone else, just the incredible man beneath him. He uncapped the bottle and slicked his fingers, gently brushing them against John.

"Yes," John moaned. He had fancied himself in love many times, but he had never loved anyone as wholeheartedly as he loved Sherlock. He knew he would never love anyone else again.

Sherlock pushed a finger in slowly. John was so incredibly warm. He stretched him slowly before adding a second finger and scissoring them.

John adjusted quickly. "Ahhhh... Sherlock!" How did Sherlock learn this through the internet?

Sherlock purred deeply. Did John realize how sexy he was? He pushed a third finger in, his cock _—_ which was apparently doing all the thinking at the moment _—_ desperately wanted to be inside John already.

John nodded. He was ready; beyond ready, he was impatient. "P-please..."

Sherlock smiled, pulling his fingers out slowly and stroking John. "My lovely angel," he murmured. He slowly pushed inside, not wanting to hurt John. "Ahh... You're... so amazing..."

John gasped. It hurt so very much for such a short time and then it was so wonderful...

Sherlock could see the pain in John's eyes and nearly pulled out. "S-sorry, are you okay?"

"Yes... F-fine..." John gasped. "P-please don't st-stop..." His legs wrapped around Sherlock and pulled him further in.

Sherlock groaned. He was so deep inside John... He began thrusting in and out, speeding up as he went.

"Sherlock!" John cried, his head falling back against the pillows in pleasure. God, Sherlock was incredible.

"Ahh, John, I love you so much," Sherlock moaned. He could tell that he would not last much longer, which was annoying since he'd waited so long for this to happen and he didn't want it to end so soon.

John felt his control crumble, his thoughts _—_ what was left of them, anyway _—_ following the same path as Sherlock's. "Sherlock!" he cried even louder than before as he came between them, coating both of their stomachs with his seed.

"Ahh!" Sherlock could not hold back any longer. "John!" he shouted as he came inside of him. He fell on top of him after climaxing, taking a moment to catch his breath before pulling out.

John held Sherlock close, kissing his lips lazily. "That... was... perfect..." he remarked, breathing heavily. He reached onto the nightstand and retrieved some tissues which he used to wipe the both of them clean.

"You're perfect," Sherlock sighed happily. He snuggled up against John with a small yawn.

John smiled sleepily, closing his eyes and covering both of them with the blanket. "Goodnight, Sherlock," he mumbled, already half asleep.

Sherlock's tail wrapped around John's waist as he drifted off to sleep. He would finally be waking up in John's arms like he had dreamed of doing so many times.


	3. No Sense of Boundaries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John returns to the flat in a foul mood when his date ends badly and decides to take a bath to relieve stress. However, he failed to take into account the fact that his flat mate has no sense of boundaries and what is proper or improper behavior.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates are not going to be remotely this frequent, so enjoy it while it lasts. Have I mentioned that I have an extremely short attention span and no free time because of school? Fortunately, I do find the time to role play with reflectiveless, which is how all of these stories came into being. I just need some encouragement to get me to format/edit and upload them. *cough* Comments are very encouraging... *cough*
> 
> Also, please don't freak out about a slight detail that's inconsistent with the furniture of Sherlock's bedroom in the show. I needed to change his bed slightly, you may or may not notice why.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own BBC's _Sherlock,_ as much as I wish it was otherwise.

John trudged into the flat after what had literally been the worst date of his entire adult life. It had been fine, up until the point where he accidentally moaned _Sherlock_ 's name during sex instead of.... come to think of it, he really didn't know what her name was. He'd been shoved into the hallway wearing only his boxers with the rest of his clothes in his arms and then what's-her-name threw his shoes at him. He only very narrowly jumped out of the way in time. It was extremely humiliating and now all he wanted was to let the stress melt away in a nice hot bath. He headed to the bathroom without a word to his flat mate and turned on the water. When the tub was full, he shrugged out of his clothes, not bothering to lock the door, and sank into the water with a small moan of satisfaction.

Sherlock hated when John would leave for _dates_. Why he felt they were necessary at all was beyond him. John's place was here by Sherlock's side should he need him, which was often. Even when John didn't know it, his mere presence helped calm the detective and keep him focused. It's why he had tried so hard on numerous occasions to make sure John didn't make it to his dates, but John was getting better at avoiding him when one was coming up. Sherlock needed to stake a better claim on him. He stomped off towards the bathroom, removing his clothes on the way and letting them fall to the floor without a thought. Luckily, John was in too much of a mood to remember to lock the door. Sherlock grinned as he let himself in. “I’m commandeering the tub,” he stated coldly, settling into the tub at the opposite end as John.

John jumped slightly, blushing bright red and immediately covering himself with his hands. "Bloody hell, Sherlock!" he exclaimed. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"I'm taking a bath, obviously," Sherlock stated as though it was the most natural and sensible thing in the world. "You're just sitting in the tub doing nothing productive and I required it. There's no reason you should let all the extra warm water go to waste after all. We could significantly lower our water costs if we make this a regular occurrence..."

Of course. John really shouldn't be surprised by Sherlock's logic by now. "Why today, Sherlock?" he whispered, sounding defeated. "I've had a crap day and you choose today of all days to do _this_." He shouldn't have allowed himself to hope that maybe Sherlock wanted him as much as he wanted his friend.

"You looked like you were having a bad day..." Sherlock explained in a small voice, much less sure of himself now, "and I read on the internet that physical contact can help people feel _loved_ and needed—and I very much need you, John... So I thought this would help." He bit his lip nervously. Perhaps he made a poor decision. Of course John didn't want this, Sherlock was practically forcing himself on him. "I could leave..."

John sighed and ran a hand over his face, giving up on trying to cover himself. He was honestly just too tired to care. "You can stay," he mumbled.

Sherlock smiled and situated himself so he was more comfortable at his end of the tub. "Very environmentally conscious of you, John," he purred, his voice regaining its confidence. His feet slid forward a bit and brushed against John's.

John tried to ignore the sensation—like a lightning bolt—that went through him at the contact, hoping his blush wasn't as obvious as it felt. He closed his eyes and sank a bit deeper into the water, sighing.

Sherlock slid lower into the tub so the water was up to his shoulders and his feet reached the sides of John's surprisingly plush little bum. "Slipped..." he said unconvincingly, smiling mischievously.

John bit back a moan as his blush deepened. He knew Sherlock well enough to know that he was lying, though for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why.

Sherlock cocked his head to the side, he had really expected to be kicked out of the bath by now and John was turning the loveliest shade of red... Was it possible that he...? But John had always said he was _not gay_... although he never technically said he was straight either... "John?" Sherlock purred, fully planning on exploiting the situation. "Want me to wash your back?" His feet lightly squeezed John's arse before pulling back, pretending it was unintentional.

A small moan managed to escape John's lips as his eyes snapped open. Sherlock's heart fluttered faster at that inciting sound. He quickly righted himself in the tub and pushed himself forward so he was almost touching John, a bit of water sloshing over the side. "Sherlock, what are you...?" John began.

"I think you know exactly what I'm doing," Sherlock murmured, interrupting John.

John's heart beat faster and he swallowed dryly. "I thought you were married to your work?" he asked.

"Like I said John, I _need_ you... Aren't you involved in every aspect of my work? I thought I had made that quite obvious." Sherlock grabbed the soap from behind John and slid it up his back teasingly.

John shivered and gazed at Sherlock intently, letting his eyes travel across the detective's pale body. "So you consider us married, then?" he half-teased.

"Mhmm," Sherlock hummed in the affirmative. "You're the only one I could possibly want and I consider you _mine._ " He said the last word particularly possessively. "And I don't like you going off with women at night; you've been a very naughty husband, John."

John was practically dizzy with delight and the loss of blood to his brain caused by it all hurrying downwards. "Have I?" he playfully shot back. "And what are you going to do about it?"

"I am going to show you to whom you belong and make sure you never forget it," Sherlock growled as he captured John's lips with his own in a demanding kiss. "And if you try to go out again with someone other than me, I might just tie you to the bed and show you where you're most needed."

John moaned and kissed back, pulling Sherlock closer. Sherlock was really sexy when dominant and jealous. "I may have to go on a date with some random woman, just to have you follow through on your threat," he purred.

"You naughty little thing; you would try to defy me like that," Sherlock reprimanded playfully. He grabbed a glorious handful of John's arse and sucked passionately at his neck.

John gasped in pleasure, tilting his head to give Sherlock better access to his neck. "You still have yet to claim me properly," he said, already completely hard. "Make me yours, Sherlock."

John's words went straight to Sherlock's already hard cock. He gently bit John's shoulder as he pressed a finger to his entrance. "Have you done this before?" he asked against John's skin. "With a man instead of a woman?"

John shook his head in the negative. "You will be my first," he said.

"Good," Sherlock purred, thrilled that he would be the only one to claim John in this way. "This might hurt, love." He gently pressed his finger in halfway and blushed a bit when he realized he hadn't actually said _the words_ yet. "I love you John."

John winced at the intrusion, but the pain was forgotten as Sherlock said the words John so desperately wanted him to say. "I love you too, Sherlock," he whispered, grinning like a loon.

Sherlock kissed him deeply, much more gently and lovingly this time. "Mine," he purred, pushing his finger in deeper and slowly adding a second.

John ignored the pain in favor of moaning into Sherlock's mouth. "Yours," he agreed. "Always yours."

Sherlock worried it might be too much for him. He scissored his fingers slightly, asking, "It's not too much is it?"

John moaned again. "God, no," he breathed. "More... please, more..."

Sherlock spread his fingers more, loving how it felt to have his fingers buried deep inside of John. He gently added a third finger. "God you're tight."

John shivered with steadily increasing pleasure. "Need you, 'Lock," he moaned.

"I think I rather like you being needy," Sherlock said with a smirk. He briefly pecked those beautiful lips of John's. "Need you too." He carefully withdrew his fingers and pressed the head of his cock against John's entrance.

John spread and lifted his legs to give Sherlock better access to his arse. "Please," he whimpered.

Sherlock smiled, lifting John up by his waist and pressing into him with a satisfied moan.

John moaned at the incredible fullness. It felt so amazing to be joined with Sherlock in this way. He'd wanted this for so long, but he thought it would never happen and now that it had, he was amazed he hadn't tried it before.

"I wish I knew you wanted this sooner," Sherlock muttered before slowly thrusting into the blond.

"Yeah... thought you.... were supposed to be... a genius...." John managed to tease between moans and gasps of pleasure. "Oh Sherlock...."

"Mmmm... John... you know... ah... how I am with sentiment...." Sherlock replied.

John had to admit that Sherlock had a point there. "Shut up and kiss me," he demanded.

Sherlock grinned. Apparently he wasn't the only possessive one. He snogged John deeply, reaching his hand between them to stroke him far too lightly.

John gasped at the sensation, kissing Sherlock even more urgently than before. Bloody hell, Sherlock felt so perfect inside of him and those long fingers were being far too gentle. He needed more.

"Like that do you?" Sherlock purred as he began pumping John harder, making sure to hit John's prostate with each thrust. John cried out in ecstasy. Sherlock was incredible. "John! I love you... God... I'm ah- so close..." He tried holding on, wanting John to come first.

Just hearing Sherlock say that pushed John over the edge. "Sherlock!" he shouted as he came into the bath water. Sherlock moaned deeply, coming into him with a shout. John caught his breath slowly. "I believe you were going to tie me to your bed at some point today..." he said with a grin.

"Have to clean you up first," Sherlock pointed out. He cleaned up the mess they both had made and drained the tub. He grabbed a fluffy bath towel and practically cuddled John until he was dry.

John grinned. "Who'd have thought that the great _Sherlock Holmes_ is a cuddler?"

"Don't you dare let anyone know about it," Sherlock said with a grin. He smiled as he pressed his head into John's neck.

John chuckled. "What're you gonna do to stop me from telling all of Scotland Yard?" he teased.

"Whatever I can," Sherlock replied with a predatory grin. "I have quite a few well-practiced restraining methods."

John shivered, already getting hard again. "I'm curious about just how creative you can be when it comes to bondage," he said with a wink.

Sherlock grinned. "I can imagine _quite_ a variety now." He kissed the top of John's head before dropping the towel and leading him out of the bathroom.

John followed eagerly. "Would you like to know why my date ended with me being thrown out of a flat wearing only a pair of pants?"

Oh, that was a lovely visual. "Call her the wrong name?" he teased.

"Actually, that's exactly what happened when I called your name instead of hers," John said with a mildly embarrassed smile.

Sherlock grinned. "R-really?" Somehow, John calling his name while with someone else was oddly romantic.

John nodded. "It was embarrassing at the time, but more than worth it if _this_ is the result."

Sherlock's smile widened. "I'll have to ensure that it was the last time you ever have to make such a mistake, then."

"Good," John said happily. They finally reached Sherlock's room and Sherlock quickly pinned him to the bed, nipping at his neck and lips.

John moaned into Sherlock's mouth. "Thought you.... were gonna... tie me up..." he managed to murmur between kisses.

"If I... must..." Sherlock sighed, not sounding nearly as put out or reluctant as he intended. He had a hard time pulling himself away from John. He grabbed a few items from his closet. "Rope or handcuffs?" he asked, holding up both for John's inspection.

John grinned at him. "Up to you, my sexy consulting detective," he replied.

Sherlock bound both of John's ankles to the bed posts with the rope, grinning at how it forced him to spread his legs, which gave him quite a lovely view. John felt himself getting even harder, though he refused to admit how much Sherlock's display of dominance and predatory gaze turned him on. Sherlock ran his hands up John's lean body before grasping his wrists and handcuffing them together. He fastened the handcuffs to the headboard of the bed and admired his handiwork. John whimpered. He was so hard it hurt, but he couldn't do anything to give himself friction. He was completely at Sherlock's mercy.

Sherlock ran his hands teasingly down John's chest. "Just look at you, practically vibrating with need."

John bit his lip. Sherlock was enjoying watching him suffer from lack of friction far too much. "Lawk... need you...."

Sherlock nipped lightly at his chest, stroking John's cock far too gently. "How badly do you need me?"

John tried desperately to rut against Sherlock's hand, but found that he couldn't move. Sherlock had done an excellent job of tying and cuffing him to the bed. "I need you more than I need oxygen," he whimpered.

"My precious Jawn," Sherlock purred, gripping John's cock more firmly and pumping it, giving John what he needed.

John moaned in pleasure. "Mmmmm.... Sherlawk...." Oh, it felt so amazing. Sherlock grabbed a bottle of lube nearby and rubbed it into himself carefully, planning on riding John. John's pupils dilated when he realized what Sherlock planned to do. He was most definitely looking forward to this.

Sherlock moaned as he pushed his fingers inside of himself, hovering just above John. "Mmmm... John... " He pulled them out slowly and pushed onto John with a moan. John moaned at the wonderful friction Sherlock's tight heat gave him.

"God, John... so.... ah... full..." Sherlock gasped. He slowly slid up and down on John, hitting his own prostate.

John moaned, loving every second of it. "You are.... bloody stupendous...." he gasped.

Sherlock pulled all the way off only to push john completely back in again. "I don't want to... ahh... give you reason to .... leave me..." he admitted between moans.

John's heart nearly stopped for a moment. "I'll never leave you, Sherlock," he promised. "Ever. You're finally mine and I've wanted you for so long. I could never leave you even if I tried."

Sherlock's eyes watered a bit. "I love you so much John," he whispered.

John wished he could kiss away Sherlock's tears, but as he'd already learned, he was unable to move. "I love you more than life itself and I intend to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Oh John..." Sherlock sighed, sniffling almost imperceptibly. "I want to spend the rest of mine with you too."

"Come here," John said, wanting to kiss Sherlock. Sherlock leaned forward, claiming John's lips lightly. John kissed back lovingly. "My 'Lawk," he sighed against Sherlock's lips.

"I think I rather like that nickname, Jawn," Sherlock purred against him, trying to suppress his lingering insecurities.

John grinned. "Good." He wanted Sherlock to keep riding him. It felt wonderful as it was, but he needed movement. Sherlock righted himself on John's cock and rocked forward. John moaned. "How is it you know exactly what I want when I want it?"

"I have an amazing ability to deduce things love," Sherlock chuckled. He slid up and down on John.

John chuckled. "I'm well aware, but I'm amazed you're able to deduce anything right now." He glanced pointedly at Sherlock's neglected cock.

"Maybe I... ah.... should uncuff you?" Sherlock offered.

John bit his lip. "I think I'd rather like to see you pleasure yourself..." he admitted shyly.

"My, aren't you _cocky_ ," Sherlock teased. He grinned, stroking himself as his head lolled back in bliss.

John felt himself drawing closer and closer to his climax as he watched Sherlock. Bloody hell, it was sexy.

"Mmmm Jaaawn...." Sherlock moaned. He wasn't sure how much longer he could last.

"Come for me, Sherlock," John purred. He wanted Sherlock to orgasm first.

Oh, those words in that voice were impossibly sexy. "J-John!" he shouted as he came across John's midsection. John came into Sherlock almost immediately after. Sherlock got off him and snuggled up to John's side, kissing his chest. "My John," he sighed. "I love you." John really wished his arms were free so he could hold Sherlock. "I should probably release you now..." Sherlock undid the handcuffs, but left the rope in place.

John chuckled, rubbing his sore wrists. "I love you too, you daft git," he sighed, embracing Sherlock.

"I'm making sure you stay the night," Sherlock yawned, referring to the ropes.

John sighed, shaking his head. Sherlock thought he wouldn't stay? "Why the hell would I leave when I've wanted nothing more than to sleep with you in my arms for months now?"

Sherlock snuggled into him, hiding his face. "It wouldn't be the first time someone did," he mumbled.

John immediately got worried. "What happened to make you so insecure, my love?" he implored gently.

Sherlock sighed deeply. He didn't want to think about the events of so long ago; he just wanted to lay there with John and learn to trust him. "It was a while ago," he muttered. "It doesn't matter now."

John kissed Sherlock gently. "It matters if you can't trust that I love you because of it."

"Someone broke my heart very badly..." Sherlock reluctantly explained. "I haven't trusted anyone since."

John's heart broke for Sherlock. "What happened?"

"V-Victor..." Sherlock breathed, his voice unsteady. He hated even thinking of the name. "I know you are aware of some of my past... " John's first day at the flat involved a drug raid, after all. Stupid Gavin... "He was how that came into my life. I spent my trust fund on drugs for us, when the money was gone, so was he."

A tear fell from John's eye and he held Sherlock closer. "Untie me, love," he murmured gently. "I swear I won't leave. I'll be here with you in the morning and every morning from now on. For the rest of my life, I'll stay with you."

Sherlock hesitantly untied him. Logically, he knew John would stay, but his subconscious wasn't too kind to him.

John wrapped his arms and legs around Sherlock, keeping him as close as physically possible. "Sleep now, my darling. I have something I want to discuss in the morning."

"Alright love," Sherlock yawned, kissed John gently, and used his chest as a pillow.

John rubbed Sherlock's back gently. "Goodnight, my 'Lawk."

"Night, Jawn," Sherlock yawned with his eyes closed. John fell asleep thinking about what he planned to do in the morning. He was going to make sure that Sherlock understood that John would love him forever.

* * *

 

Sherlock yawned lightly in the morning, not wanting to wake just yet. All of the events of the previous night flooded back to him and he cracked an eye open to check if John was still there. He smiled happily when he saw John's peacefully sleeping face. He could hardly believe last night had actually happened, but his proof was right there, sleeping next to him. John's arms tightened around him as his eyes fluttered open. "Good morning, love," Sherlock greeted, kissing John's chest.  
John smiled and kissed Sherlock's lovely pink lips. "Morning," he yawned. "I told you I'd still be here, you nutter."

"And you really are," Sherlock said with awe in his voice. He smiled, kissing his John deeply.

John kissed back lazily. "I'm here because I love you," he told his detective. "I wanted to ask you something."

"Anything."

"You said last night in the tub that you consider us married," John recalled. "Would you like to make it official?"

Sherlock's eyes lit up. "Really?" he squeaked, clearing his throat to bring it back down to its regular pitch. "Of course!" He clung to John tightly.

John grinned. "So you'll marry me, Sherlock?" he asked, wanting a definite answer.

"Of course I will, love!" Sherlock exclaimed, snogging him.

John kissed back, happier than ever before. "I'll love you forever, Sherlock," he promised.

"I'll love you forever too John."

After a few minutes of intense snogging, John spoke again. "We need to go ring shopping," he mused, his hand lazily trailing along Sherlock's spine.

Sherlock grinned, linking their fingers together. "It seems we do," he agreed.

John nuzzled against Sherlock's neck. "I'm so glad that you're _finally_ mine," he murmured.

Sherlock hummed in agreement, kissing John's chest. "I don't even know why I got in the tub," he admitted after a while. "I suppose I was just tired of not being with you."

John chuckled. "I'm very glad you did," he said, kissing Sherlock's forehead lovingly.

A smirk appeared on Sherlock's face. "It was worth the risk of being yelled at to grasp that perfect little bum of yours."

John laughed out loud. "I never thought I'd hear you say anything like that," he stated, shaking his head fondly.

"Perhaps not, but I think it constantly," Sherlock admitted with a wink.

John snogged him thoroughly. "Do you, now?" he asked playfully.

"Most definitely," Sherlock told him. "Especially right now." He reached behind John and grabbed a handful of his wonderful arse.

John moaned lightly at the fantastic sensation of Sherlock's hand on his bum. "There have been many times at crime scenes where you bend down to examine evidence while I examine your arse." John grabbed Sherlock's arse with both hands, snogging him.

"Mmmm you should have," Sherlock hummed against his lips. "Though Gavin would have likely turned red."

"Greg, Sherlock," John corrected with a chuckle. "His name is Greg. Or Gregory, if you're Mycroft."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "Why would _Mycroft_ call him by his first name?" he demanded suspiciously.

John grinned. "You mean you don't know?"

"What don't I know?" Sherlock asked with a raised eyebrow.

John laughed. "Oh this is brilliant! I know something that _Sherlock Holmes_ doesn't know!" He took a moment to bask in the glory of that triumph.

Sherlock furrowed his brow in aggravation. "Yes, yes, _very_ amusing..." he growled sarcastically. " _What is it_?"

John smirked, entirely unfazed by Sherlock's annoyance. "This may come as a bit of a shock, so brace yourself," he said gently, his tone and smirk contradicting each other. "They're shagging. Have been for months now. Their three month anniversary is coming up soon, I think."

Sherlock stared blankly at him for a moment. "I may have to delete knowing this..." he muttered, sounding more than a little disturbed.

John snickered. "Did I scar you?"

"For life..." Sherlock answered. He gave a quick shiver.

John chuckled. "Drama queen, you are." Sherlock crossed his arms and pouted. John kissed Sherlock's pout. "Oh come off it, they're actually a bit adorable together."

"My brother does not make a cute couple with _anyone_ ," Sherlock argued.

"He does with Greg," John said. "I've seen Mycroft smile _without_ looking like it's physically painful."

"That's possible?" Sherlock asked genuinely confused.

John grinned. "You should see them sometimes."

"I'm afraid I might have to at some point, just to see whether or not you're lying."

John licked Sherlock's neck teasingly. "I love you."

"Mmm, I love you too..." Sherlock hummed. "Maybe if I have you there, it won't be so bad."

John grinned and slowly dragged his teeth across the skin of his neck. "You'll always have me there."

"Mmmm, John..." Sherlock purred lustfully.

"I love you, my amazing Sherlock," John murmured.

"I love you too, my incredible John."


	4. Of Gold and Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Bilbo Baggins sneaks into Erabor to retrieve the Arkenstone, he discovers that the dragon is very much alive and not at all like he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our first (posted) smauglock! If I've forgotten to say this before, the beautiful reflectiveless is generally Sherlock and, in this case, Smaug. I'm John and Bilbo for the most part. Occasionally we switch, but not this time.

Bilbo crept silently through the halls of Erabor, terrified of the dragon he knew could be lurking around any corner, just waiting for a delicious meal of barbecued hobbit. He'd heard stories of dragons his entire life and he'd always been fascinated by them, believing that they were seriously misunderstood creatures, but by no account did that mean he didn't think one would readily kill him if given the opportunity. When he finally reached the treasure chamber, he began to despair. The cavern was enormous. How could he ever expect to find one stone in this sea of glittering treasure? He sighed, knowing he had no choice other than to try, and began his search.

Smaug had been slumbering beneath his gold for quite some time before the soft pitter-patter of tiny (especially when compared to those of a dragon in its full, reptilian form) feet roused him. His eyes snapped open menacingly, recognizing the meaning of the sound immediately. There was a thief in his midst. Silently, he lifted his head out of the gold — well, not quite silently, since there was an audible jingling as gold coins fell from his rising head onto the pile of their brethren — and cast his gaze around for the intruder. "Where are you thief?!" he half-purred, half-growled, his sensuously deep voice reverberating throughout the cavern. There was no response, so he continued. "I can hear you.... smell you... sense the very air you breathe... Come out or I shall incinerate you where you stand."

Bilbo froze. Shite, he'd awakened the dragon. He quickly slipped on the ring, vanishing from sight.

Smaug's eyes narrowed as he peered around, still not seeing where the intruder hid. "Don't be shy... come into the light!" he purred in a way that would have sounded reassuring, had he sent a blaze of fire down a row of gold immediately after speaking.

Bilbo ducked behind a column, trying not to panic. Maybe the dragon would just give up if he stayed invisible long enough... He knew that the likelihood of such an occurrence was extremely small, but a small hope was far better than panic and hysteria.

Smaug hissed; there were far too many tight corners he couldn't access in this monumental form. He drew nearer to where he thought he'd heard the footsteps, shifting his form to a more humanoid shape. "I'll find you, little creature, and when I do, I just might devour you."

Bilbo couldn't stifle a gasp. Smaug was not just human-shaped, which was surprising to say the least, he was also gorgeous and very, _very_ naked.

Still possessing his senses, Smaug sniffed and smelled an unfamiliar scent. It was similar to dwarf, but not quite the same. He drew closer to the smell, still not seeing his target. "Come out thief or I shall set the whole room on fire," he growled, eyes narrowing.

Bilbo bit his lip, failing miserably in his attempts to not stare at the beautiful dragon... _all_ of the beautiful, and very well-endowed, dragon. Against his better judgement, he cautiously removed the ring, stowing it in his pocket where, hopefully, the lover of gold wouldn't notice it.

Smaug cocked his head, seeing a small figure appear like magic to his left. "Tiny little thing, you are..." he observed, raising an eyebrow. He hadn't expected his intruder to be so... _cute_. He crouched lower, still just above the creature's height. "And what shall I do with the little thief, I wonder...?" he mused. It had been quite some time since he'd taken a lover and the thief was very aesthetically pleasing... He looked him over again. Yes, he would do nicely.

Bilbo swallowed thickly, blushing slightly at the dragon's intense stare. "Wh-what are y-you g-going to d-do t-to m-me?" he stammered.

Smaug licked his lips, pinning the thief to the column wall. "I think I might just eat you up," he purred, his eyes glittering with anticipation and his intention clear from his quickly hardening cock. He leaned towards the tiny man and licked up the side of his neck.

Bilbo's eyes widened as his breath hitched. Surely Smaug meant to actually eat him, not... His eyes wandered down to the dragon's very prominent erection and he let out a small, unintentional moan.

Oh, _that_ was a delicious sound... Smaug's eyes fluttered shut as he began to suck on the base of his intruder's neck, hoping to leave marks that would signify that this man had been _claimed_. His hand breached the smaller man's trousers, rubbing his much shorter length teasingly.

Bilbo moaned louder, his head falling back against the wall. He was very hard at this point. He had absolutely no idea when he first entered Erabor that Smaug was _this_ talented and sexy. "Smaug..." he moaned.

"Shall I devour you?" Smaug asked, withdrawing his hand from the thief's trousers and smirking at the whimper the action elicited from his newest treasure. He picked his thief up and carried him off to where he slept at night when in human form. He dropped the burglar onto his bed, quickly ridding him of his clothes as though he was unwrapping a delicious present.

Bilbo allowed his eyes to wander over Smaug's naked form. He was absolutely gorgeous and positively sexy, looming over him like that. The dragon was like the physical embodiment of sex.

"Looking at me, thief?" Smaug purred, his eyes glazed over. He was proud that the hobbit was looking at him so keenly. He lightly flicked his tongue over Bilbo's length.

"Smaug!" Bilbo moaned, arching his back. No one had ever done this to him before and it felt amazing. Smaug took more of him into his mouth, swirling his tongue around him as he massaged at Bilbo's thighs. Bilbo moaned again. The dragon had a very talented tongue and a very warm, wet, and wonderful mouth.

Smaug took him in completely and hummed around him, his hand coming up to tease Bilbo's entrance. Bilbo cried out in pleasure. It was so wonderful.... Absolutely bloody perfect.

Smaug lifted up from him, licking up the hobbit's chest, "I think you could use a bit more sugar..." He captured Bilbo's mouth with his as he grabbed a large stash of chocolate from just beyond the bed. Bilbo kissed back, not seeing what Smaug had gotten. All he knew was he wanted more. Much more. The chocolate melted quickly from Smaug's hand onto Bilbo, dripping all the way from his neck to his cock. "Now there's a dessert..." he purred, grinning. He began lapping the chocolate up.

Bilbo opened his eyes at the smell and realized that he was covered in chocolate. Seeing and feeling Smaug lick it off was extremely erotic. He moaned loudly. Gods, Smaug was sexy. The dragon was literally the sexiest thing he'd seen in his entire life.

Smaug swiped two fingers over Bilbo's chest, smearing the chocolate a bit as he offered it to Bilbo to lick. "Like that, little thief?" Bilbo licked the chocolate off of Smaug's fingers, savoring the sweet taste. Smaug loved the hobbit's mouth around his fingers like this. "Tell me your name."

Bilbo's mouth left Smaug's fingers. "Bilbo," he answered. "Bilbo Baggins"

"Bil-bo..." The name rolled off Smaug's tongue delightfully. "And what exactly are you?" He continued lapping at the chocolate.

Bilbo had to think for a moment to remember he was a hobbit; Smaug's tongue made thinking an extremely difficult feat. "I'm a... a ho-hobbit..." he stammered between moans.

"A ho-hobbit?" Smaug repeated thoughtfully. "Haven't heard of one of those before..." He slid back down Bilbo's body, melting chocolate onto his cock.

Bilbo's back arched again at the exquisite sensations on his cock. "Ahhhhhhhhhh....! Smaug!"

Smaug chuckled, oh was he precious. He took Bilbo into his mouth again, chocolate was quite possibly the greatest flavor ever created.

Bilbo's hand fisted in Smaug's hair. "Smaug.... I'm... ah.... c-close...."

Smaug hummed around him, grabbing a nice hand full of arse as he did.

"SMAUG!" Bilbo cried, coming hard into the dragon's mouth. Smaug drank him down, cleaning him up — chocolate and all — with his tongue. Bilbo panted on the bed. That was without a doubt the best orgasm of his life.

Smaug lay next to him, cuddling the smaller man up against him. "I think I'll keep you. You can be my pet."

Bilbo felt his heart break slightly. He wanted to be more than just a pet to Smaug. He didn't say anything, though, not wanting to ruin the moment. Other than the fantastic blow job he'd been given, Bilbo didn't know how he'd become so attached to the dragon so quickly.

Smaug rubbed his cheek against Bilbo's hair. "I think I would have given all my gold for you. To think, you merely walked in for me to take. My Bilbo..." Smaug purred sleepily.

Bilbo smiled, snuggling against the dragon. "You would?" he asked. He'd heard how much dragons loved gold. It was unbelievable that Smaug would willingly part with all the gold of Erabor for a simple hobbit like Bilbo.

"You're far more valuable to me then these gold pieces... why is that?" Smaug's brows furrowed. He wasn't a very socialized creature.

Bilbo blinked away happy tears. "I have no idea," he whispered, looking up at Smaug. "I don't know what you see in me."

"You didn't try to run away," Smaug murmured, running his finger through Bilbo's messy hair, nothing about this was making sense to him.

Bilbo gently caressed Smaug's cheek with his hand. "Because I fell in love with you," he whispered.

"I'm a monster... you can't love me..." Smaug argued weakly. He felt almost possessed, his body acting of its own accord as he pressed his lips to Bilbo's.

Bilbo kissed back. "You would have killed me if you were a monster," he said.

"I nearly did." Smaug admitted regretfully.

Bilbo kissed him. "But you didn't."

"Bilbo? I... I think I love you..." Smaug whispered. This 'love' business was very new to him.

Bilbo grinned. "Then I'm yours," he murmured. "Forever."

Smaug kissed Bilbo's forehead, "Then I'm yours as well."

"My very own dragon," Bilbo said with a grin.

Smaug pouted slightly. "I do hope that's not the only reason why you like me..."

"Of course it isn't," Bilbo said, nuzzling against him.

"I like how small you are, love," Smaug said happily. "You're the perfect size for cuddling."

Bilbo grinned. "No one's ever said that to me before."

"And hopefully no one else will, I want to be the only one to cuddle you." Smaug didn't like other people touching his things and Bilbo had already said that he was his.

"You will be," Bilbo promised.

"My precious little hobbit," Smaug yawned before his eyes drifted shut.

Bilbo snuggled up to Smaug, tucking his head under the dragon's chin. "I love you, my Smaug," he mumbled, falling asleep in his dragon's embrace.


End file.
